FUTURELOVE

All I see is love

in a dark future of no money and no lust for forced square planned life I still imagine NLOmar in the most beautiful shiny car (or sometimes on a horse and sometimes on a bike, of course) picking me up and driving us around wherever we wanna go. This fantasy is enough on any blue day. Love saves all.

This is supposed to be a post with videos from Istanbul - - - - -> look to the future

This is supposed to be a post with a photo of the first W of a kerouac-bio-title-> look to the future

We`ll be together in a real life fantasy soon, lovely `N all Love Omar

V DAY; cupid come

AT THE BAZAR. walking around the little shops trying to not let anyone get to my eye. they mostly have the same in every door so i keep walking longing for surprise. then theres a teenager. it does it, its eyes catches mine then down to the fingers and it says thats nice what does it say? I H R A what does it mean i ask hoping it would have associations in this land for us to put stories in. it doesnt know moving on taking the next hand L I L L. its a name, i say. BROTHER SISTER, FRIEND? WIFE. it has already sold me safran and fezes. it doesnt wanna let me go. we re standing there with IHRA LILL in our hands. holding on to us it leads me to the corner of the little shop. the APRODISIAQUE. for u, for IHRA LILL, it says. IF YOU TAKE THIS YOU CAN MAKE LOVE 5 TIMES IN THE NIGHT says the jar. of course i take it.

post turk and split by borders again but hoping ur feeling my endless boner reaching out to ur heart tonite baby valentine ILL A

+ it must be old enough for the heart to bleed or does this not have an age? i am sure my heart was a lighter one ten years ago but then again im late, always was and lucky to have that long childhood free of blood more than most. i am growing up and all hearts owns this day. the sneakier blood has left me happy at the malnourished side of life where the this aprodisiaque is swallowed with sect, i put my love in familiar places, hause, soft bod and the kumpir, the week trad boner of a potato into my face, now x 5, safran, tender, everturk. kiss

leaving for the bazar

the only thing a hundred procent sure about today is that art in general is not important. the word art is not importantly used in this context of love and almost never will be. but we are on a journey in the name of it and our eyes and therefore brain are forced into this specific mode. tonight we tried to drown most colors and shapes in a pink mix of raki and red with the mix of a filled room and music from phones in a plastic cup-speaker. Not acting like white trash all the way, just all the way we want to. No poetics, just drunken flow. Omar taking a shower while happy slaughter is on the tv. we will find suiting images without the whole story, but we feel our loved ones seeing it all the way through. Istanbul day  four, still not learning our history, but getting oh so good at walking rolling updown ancient hills.

MERCIMEK

We invite you to our spa center for 15 minute free skin massage and analise.

Fat hair shiny face good morning! off into the fatter town to hunt for jaguars

WE GOT TEA this must be how they party in holier ways

chewing gum to appear boring more on this later in the book

sneaky helpers, do they want our money or our smiles

mercimek, cheap and fast and always local

kids so up in our faces on turkish we could see their freckles and they into our foreign hearts

fashion tv minus size models in widescreen

BRIDES BRIDES BRIDES (but where all the girls at in this town?) 

freudian slippers

1 cinnamon raisin + 1 poppy seed bagel sitting in luxury hotel bed sultanahmet. full of wine from the blue mosque, kissy turks and slim eyed kitties. apple belarus coming up with finn, prioritized space in the bag for the dirty dog from the sun. digiturk.com, hot stuff jeg har drikt opp fet på min diaré jeg elsker vårt 2013 xes

,
Feat. longer sentences from equally love-stricken wife on vacation in  this different part of us = Istanbul  The religious double price of alco and the over empathy mixed with too much aggression is making this a fast time of art and honeymooning. Our loose cat friends have more personalties than we can take without bleeding hearts and the dogs know each other in groups they belong to under the sun. Fake and real is a good mix in this place of hills and new bravery.  In the writing moment of bad / sad music videos on the tv, we`re finishing the second to last drink pretending to prepare for a third tourist day of group dynamics in this new oldest place. Omar is saying there are no mosques to see from the window and that`s all right cuz the tv can love love songs all night and cheeks are getting red. so red. so hard on the crossword bone. this is our postcard

something more important than nostalgia